


Love in the Time of Corona

by tjs_whatnot



Category: Miranda (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/pseuds/tjs_whatnot
Summary: Miranda learns about self care...
Relationships: Miranda Hart/Gary Preston
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Love in the Time of Corona

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abbichicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbichicken/gifts).



“Hello and good afternoon my chums! Happy Christmas! Is that something we’re still saying? Are we still celebrating holidays? It’s been a strange time, hasn’t it? But, let's start at the beginning, yes?

“Previously in my life…” she pauses, then lifts her left hand to reveal her wedding ring. “I got married!”

She blushes as she continues, “And yes, we’re still married. Only, well, we’ve been separated for months now. No, he hasn’t left me, RUDE. It’s just, he went away for a boys’ holiday back in March and hasn’t been able to get back into the country since. 

“No, but it’s fine. Really. Stevie’s here. Literally here, like, hasn’t left this building in months, here. We decided that the safest place for us to be if we have any hope of keeping our business afloat is here in my apartment. We’ve mostly moved to online retail, which I prefer quite honestly. More opportunity to work in jim-jams and less opportunity to trip over annoying customers. Win/Win yes?

“But let's get on with the show!” 

*cue titles*

There’s a knock on the door and Miranda, prone on the sofa with a laptop open on her stomach looks up. Stevie hops into the room from the bathroom, the smell of freshly sprayed fragrance waffs after her.

“Is that my takeaway?” Miranda asks.

“Your takeaway and my come and get it.”

Miranda rolls her eyes. Stevie had started dating the delivery guy from Miranda’s favorite curry shop. It was both convenient for Stevie and incredibly annoying for Miranda. Almost turned Miranda off of take out altogether...almost.

Miranda puts her laptop down and stands up as Stevie opens the door.

“Hello, Jason,” Miranda says.

“Come to mama,” Stevie says and pulls the young man who had once worked at the Hamilton Lodge and now delivered food since the hotel folded a month and a half after lockdown began. 

Miranda cringes and grabs the bag of food as Stevie jumps into Jason’s arms and starts climbing him like a tree. Jason walks Stevie to the bedroom door, like he’s done twice before this week and every week since June.

She takes the food to the kitchen and puts it down on the counter and picks up a grapefruit. “It’s not fair, Gordon. I’m a married woman and I’m still getting the least amount of action in my own home. Even you get a fresh new banana friend every week, after I throw away the ones that I, of course, didn’t eat from the week before. You know what the real irony is? I wouldn’t have missed the sexless life before. I lived it from most of my life, and it was _fine_. But now? Ugh! It’s torture.”

Miranda’s computer chimes and she jumps, clapping her hands. “Oh, Zoom time!”

She retrieves her laptop and brings it to her desk. She pushes the link and screams. “Mum! Dad! Turn off your video or put some clothes on!”

Covering her eyes while her mother laughs, she sighs. _Even mum and dad are rubbing it in my face--literally--how much more sex they’re having_.

“Okay, dear, no need to avert your eyes. We’ve wrapped up.”

Miranda peeks at the screen. They were now covered with a sheet. Still gross, but acceptable. “Happy Christmas!”

“I don’t know how it can be. It’s Christmas Eve and you are not here. I can’t believe we live in the same town and you can’t even venture out. Or let us over there!” Penny whinges.

“I’ve told you mum, if you’re not going to take the guidelines and restrictions seriously, I can’t let you into my bubble.”

“But it’s Christmas, Poppet!” her dad implores.

“Covid still happens on the Holidays. I didn’t sacrifice for months now to get it when we’re so close to a vaccine because _someone_ couldn’t restrict themselves from their Pilates-Hot Toddies-Sweat in the Street-Winter Retreat.”

Penny scoffs. “Who wants in your bubble anyway? Probably smells of cheese and loneliness. Any word from Gary?”

“We’re Zooming tonight. He’s gotten on the waitlist for the first flight back.”

“I thought they were letting people back into the country ages ago,” her dad says.

“They were, but now they’re not. Last time they were, he couldn’t come because he’d been exposed. Then he’s mate got it and he couldn’t leave him. It’s been one cock-up after another.”

“Speaking of cock-up…” her dad says and giggles.

Penny laughs too. “Again, dear? That thing stands at attention more than the Royal Guard.”

“Unacceptable!” Miranda shouts, disconnecting the call with a shudder. 

***

When she got out of the shower, after scrubbing everything multiple times trying to get the unclean feeling to subside, Stevie was sitting on the sofa. She smiles contently at Miranda.

“Change the sheets?” Miranda asks.

“Yes.”

“Febreezed the room?”

“Twice.”

“Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome.”

MIranda comes and sits at the other end of the couch, tucking her robe around all her bits. “I still can’t believe you let that guy into our bubble.”

“What? We adhere to precautions.”

“You stay six feet from each other, do you?”

“Well, no, but they do say, when you can’t keep your distance; keep your mask on.”

“And he keeps his mask on?”

“He does. I never thought that would be a turn on, but…” she growls.

Miranda cringes. “I hope you’re taking other precautions. You have to know that guy is probably in a lot of bubbles in the neighborhood.”

Stevie laughs. “I’m sure he is. He’s in his prime. Good for him.”

“You really are a cougar, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it if I’m still abundant with the allure.”

“Glad someone is getting good use of their prime.”

Stevie smiles sadly and snuggles up to Miranda. She pets her head. “Oh, my massive and pathetic friend. I am so sorry. It’s not fair. It’s not.”

Miranda melts into Stevie’s touch. “It’s really not.”

“There, there.”

“I mean, I go my whole life without _the sex_ ,” she whispers, “and it was fine. I never even missed it. Then I get it and wow. I mean, _wow_. And now…”

Stevie hugs her tighter. “But, you are… you know… sampling the inventory, yes?”

Miranda pulls away and studies Stevie. “What do you mean?”

“Our new line. Our best sellers. The things that are keeping us afloat and all of England satisfied. Comes in small, medium and Yes, Please.” 

“No! What? I haven’t… I couldn’t… I… I can’t… can I?”

“Oh, Miranda! What are you even talking about? Of course you can. Of course you absolutely should. Life is short. Get your pleasure where you can. It’s not like you’re being unfaithful.”

“I’m not?”

Stevie gave Miranda the most pitying look Miranda had ever seen. “Of course not. You’re allowed to take care of yourself. You think Gary hasn’t taken care of himself?”

Miranda was stumped. “I don’t… you think?”

“Morning, noon and night.”

“No! You think?”

“Talk to him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Just the thought of that conversation turns her red all over.

***

“Happy Christmas, my love,” Gary whispers, leaning into the screen. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” she whispers back, even though Stevie had gone downstairs to work on some last minute Christmas Eve orders, and to give Miranda privacy. “I really do hope you have a Happy Christmas, but is happiness even an emotion that’s relevant this year?”

“Oh babe, please don’t say that. The only thing more depressing than being so far away for so long is the idea of you not being able to find any joy in life. That is inconceivable to me.”

Miranda sighs. “Of course I have. Pockets. I took a long walk to the park a few days ago. That was lovely. And you? You’re still tossing pizzas and drinking your weight in wine?”

He laughs. “Yes to both. I can’t believe I came to Italy for a wine tour and now I’ve been stuck here so long that I have a job and pay rent.”

“Me either. And Clive? Chris? How are they holding up? How are their respective spouses?”

“Not good. But, I don’t want to talk about them. How are you really?”

Miranda takes a deep breath. _Now or never,_ she says in her head, bracing herself.

“Gary, can I ask you something? Something… personal?”

“Of course.”

“Do you…?” She stops. He waits. She panics. “So many euphemisms and I can’t think of any of them.”

Gary smiles and his eyes sparkle. “Is this going to be one of our In the Dark conversations?”

“What? No. I’m a sophisticated, well satisfied, married woman, I’m not the prude you met all those years ago…”

“Or, the skittish girl you were just last week when you made me turn off my camera so we could reminisce about our last night together?”

“Right. I’m not that girl anymore.”

“Too bad, I like that girl. But, I guess I’ll also like looking at this one you’ve become as we talk about Spanking the Monkey, Wanking the Plank, Marching the Penguin, Polishing the…” Miranda turns off her camera, red as a beet. Gary laughs.

After a pause, Miranda asks, “Are you done?”

“I am. Come back.”

She takes a deep breath and turns the camera back on, hoping she wasn’t sweating anymore. “So, do you?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“Oh! Of course,” she waved her hands dismissing him. “Loads.”

“Good. How could we survive without it?”

“Yes, how indeed?” she laughs shakily.

“Honey?”

“Yeah?”

“You haven’t, have you?”

Her finger hovers over the camera button, but she doesn’t push it. She just shakes her head. 

He smiles, his eyes warm her. “I just… I didn’t know it would… would be this hard.”

“I know.”

“I don’t regret any minute we spent together in bed. Not one. The memory is what I cling to, but…”

“They’re like a fire you can no longer put out? And you didn’t realize how cold your life had been before? Maybe you’d be better living in sweaters forever and not knowing the fire you have inside you?”

“Well, you sort of rode that metaphor into the ground there in the end, but yeah. Almost exactly. How’d you know?”

“Because I know you.”

“And yet you thought this whole time I’ve been…”

“Taking the train to solo town? Petting the cat? Nulling the--”

“Stop! Yes. All of those.”

He shrugs. “I’m a guy. I think everyone is doing it all the time.”

“What do you think about?”

“What? While I’m…?”

“Yeah. It’s okay if you think of other women,” she lies.

“I don’t.”

Really?”

“Honestly. I don’t think of anything. Sometimes I do it just so I have a moment or two to not think of anyone or anything.”

“ _Really?_ ” She couldn’t imagine.

“I think it’s different for women, or maybe it’s just different for me? If I need help getting started, then yes, I conjure images of you, but once I’ve started…absolutely nothing.”

Miranda couldn’t imagine her mind shutting off. But, the idea of it was yet another thing to put in the Pro List of Pleasuring Herself, which she was ashamed to admit she's started concocting in her head.

“Miranda?” he says, and Miranda comes back to the conversation.

“Yes?”

“So… are you going to…?”

“Maybe. If I need… If I want…”

“Well, now I know what I’ll be thinking of if I need to work myself up.”

“Gary!”

“Can I watch?”

She hangs up.

***

“Stevie?” Miranda calls, walking down the stairs to a dark, except for the fairy lights they had strung up, shop.

“Over here,” Stevie replies and Miranda follows the voice and the glow of a laptop screen.

“Oh, hi Customer,” Miranda said, when she saw Stevie and Customer huddled over a computer, Clive waves from it. “Clive, hello, how are you?”

He talks, but Miranda isn’t listening. She’s looking around the shop. They’ve really diversified their inventory now that they’ve gone online. There are a lot of things they now sell that Miranda would not have been able to sell if she had to look at the buyer in the face while doing it.

Stevie sees her perusing the room and nodded her head to the stairs. “Customer, you’ll lock up when you’re done?”

He agrees, not taking his eyes off Clive.

Stevie grabs a wrapped box and her and Miranda go back upstairs to the apartment.

“I got you something?” Stevie says, handing Miranda the box and going to the sofa.

Miranda joins her. She’s pretty sure she knows what’s in the box and she slowly pulls on the ends of the ribbon, her hands shaking.

“They come in different sizes, of course, but I didn’t want to assume anything about what you’re uh… used to, so I erred on the side of caution.”

Miranda pulls the paper away and schools her face as much as humanly possible and she still feels the heat explode up her throat and into her cheeks. “Oh, Stevie, and I didn’t get you anything.”

Stevie laughs. “This is a present for both of us.”

Miranda looks up. “How so?”

“I miss Merry Miranda. I feel this might be a good way to get her back.”

“Oh. And I thought we were going to have to wait for a vaccine to get Merry Me back.”

“Go on. Give it a go.”

“Now?” Miranda panics. 

“Well, not here. But… hey, why don’t you go take a bath. It’s waterproof.”

“Oh, uh… okay.” She went to get up. “Wait, shouldn’t I… I don’t know… get it drunk first? Get myself drunk first?”

“Yes. Probably.”

“Oh, then I do have something for you!”

She goes to the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of Scotch. “Happy Christmas,” she says as she pours two glasses.

“Thank you. And you too.” Stevie takes the glass and clinks it with Miranda’s. They both take a drink. “Don’t drink too much. Don’t want to get all regal with that…”

Miranda sneaks another peek of the thing in the box. “Should I name it?”

“Do you have a name for Gary’s?”

“For his…? No. But, with Gary’s, there’s… more than just… well, with Gary’s, it’s just a part of Gary, it’s not its own… it’s own detached thing that uh… stands alone as it were. It’s almost more… intimate? Is that possible?”

“Totally possible. Just, maybe don’t glue on any googly eyes?”

Miranda laughs. “No. I won’t.”

They sat and drank their drinks in silence for a long while, until Stevie said, “Well?”

“Now?”

“Yes now.”

“With you here in the next room?”

“You need me to leave the building? You need a deserted island?”

“Need? No. Prefer? Yes. Very much.”

Stevie stands up. Pours another drink before heading to the bedroom with a bow. “Carry on, Your Highness.”

Miranda waits until the bedroom door closes before she turns to us and mouths. “What have I gotten myself into?”

She closes the lid of the box and puts it aside. “Listen, my chums, my friends and my family from afar. I hope you’ve found your pockets of joy this year. Not happiness; joy. Happiness is circumstantial and fleeting. Joy is truer and deeper. Joy says it knows life is bitter-sweet. It knows you might be in grief, illness or disappointment but it will still find you moments that make you smile or wonder. And those moments will be true joy because they are nestled within your dark patch. So, search for those lovely things, then you might just feel some joy amongst all you might be going through. We will get through this, and I hope to see you again in 2021 and beyond.”

She blows a kiss. 

*scene fades*

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, my apologies to Gabriel García Márquez for the punny title of the story. It was meant to give me a chuckle as I tried to come up with something else. But, the longer it remained, the more perfect it seemed for the times...
> 
> Also, if the last little monologue sounds familiar, that is because it was lifted almost verbatim from a Miranda newsletter that came to my inbox as I was struggling to articulate just this message to end with. If it doesn't sound familiar, please do yourself a favor and subscribe to [Miranda's Newsletter](https://mirandahart.com/) for more inspirational nuggets like this. ♥ ♥


End file.
